Cargást
by alicetoldmeso
Summary: Normally when one is executed, you don't see them popping up all over the castle at inopportune moments. But then Merlin never was normal.


**Cargást**

An alicetoldmeso Affair

* * *

"But…"

He stood still, not daring to move. Protesting was pointless and any thought of denying it was so far off his mind it might have well not even existed.

"I _trusted_ you." A broken whisper.

And of all the things Arthur could have said that hurt the most. He almost wished he had run him through, twisted the blade into his stomach and watched him die a long and drawn out death. Perhaps it would have been less painful than that.

"I _trusted _you." This time louder and angrier, but still no denial. What would be the point?

"All this time you have been betraying me! Lying to me. For what? I don't… you _lied_."

He thought he ought to raise some defence.

"Everything I did, I did for you." It sounded pitiful and pathetic, even to his own ears.

A scoff. "For _me_? You have the nerve to say it was all for me? Or am I wrong? Was it all to get to me? Get close to me, strike at the heart?"

"I would never do anything to harm you- or the kingdom."

"But you already have harmed me. I thought I could trust you. And I thought you trusted me. I know you are not truly evil. But there is an evil in you that allowed you to lie everyday, without a second thought."

"Arthur I-"

"Am sorry. I know."

A glimmer of hope rushed through him.

"But magic Merlin! It is forbidden! Do you think yourself above the law, just because you have favour with the Prince? I am a man of honour. You apparently are not. I cannot bear men without honour. _Liars_."

It wasn't about his magic. It was about his betrayal, his lies, and his deceit.

He turned to face his friend. A lone tear trailed down Arthur's cheek.

"I am so, so sorry. I wanted to tell you, I really did but I didn't want you to have to choose between your duty and me. And I was scared. You do so much for your people and you are such a honourable man. I couldn't bear to think you would choose duty over me. And it is so selfish of me to think that you would."

"Who else knows?"

"No one. Well, my mother but I beg you to leave her out of this."

"How long?"

"Since I was a child. I was born with it."

"And you came to Camelot." The tone was one of disbelief, one usually accompanied with an 'idiot'. He could have almost been talking about one of his many clumsy and daily escapades.

"I had to leave home; the villagers were suspicious and bounty hunters pay a fortune for people like me."

"Yes, they certainly do. Because they are bought by people like me and my father to be executed." It was a harsh truth, and it make Merlin flinch violently.

"Arthur I-" He paused, choking on something that could have been a dry sob.

"I am the Crown Prince and am honour bound to obey the laws of Camelot. I cannot disobey the laws of my kingdom. I am arresting you-" he broke off and frowned before a look of resolution came across his face.

"Merlin, I am arresting you for the crime of sorcery. Guards!"

Two entered the room at the Prince's call, eyes drawn immediately to the body on the floor before being redirected to the shaking manservant.

"Take Merlin to the Throne Room. He is to be tried before my father for the crime of sorcery." He said coldly, before sweeping out of the room without a backward glance.

* * *

He kept his head down as he was led from the dungeon to the courtyard. Pity he couldn't have managed it earlier. Might have saved him of this mess.

The courtyard was silent; the mouths of the villagers in the crowd were moving, but no sound reached his ears.

He looked up as he was lead to the pyre. Arthur was stood, straight backed and impassive next to his father. Red banners fluttered softly in the wind behind him, his coattails flapping with them.

He stared into those eyes, trying to see something, a flicker of emotion. Nothing. They were open, gazing out onto the kingdom that would one day be his, but they may as well have been closed.

He squeezed his own eyes shut as his hands were tied to the main post of the pyre behind him. He could feel the rough wood and the mocking warmth of the sun shining on his face. He could smell the soap of the executioner and the freshly baked bread wafting through the marketplace. He could hear his own trembling knees knocking together and fought back a smile. It was as if his senses were on overdrive; trying to take in as much of the world before their time was up.

And as the executioner came forward with the torch he realised there had been no public speech, no condemnation of magic from the king. It was too close; he was too close.

He opened his eyes and stared at the Royal Family as flames licked at his feet.

Arthur twitched.

Morgana smirked.

The flames leapt higher.

Heat assaulted him.

Arthur took a step forward.

Burning. He just stood there and watched him burn, but it was alright. He liked the pain. It was cathartic, healing him while destroying him.

The flames leapt higher still, but not quite reaching him yet. Smoke filled his lungs and he could barely breathe. He coughed and spluttered pathetically, almost wishing he died of suffocation before he burnt.

Arthur took another step forward.

The flames tickled his feet, and as much as he had promised not to scream, it _hurt._ He was screaming and choking and _dying_.

"Stop! God, please stop!" And that was his voice, but it was too late.

* * *

_A.N: This is just a little bit of my mad imagination running wild. Too long it has been caged by tortious actions of negligence and interference, statutory interpretation and case law!_

_It's a bit short for me, but it seems to be the 'thing' in this fandom to not write epic chapters, and as a proud conformist I... well... conformed. :)_

_I have the start and the end finished, and a good idea of what I want to happen in the middle._

_I hope you enjoy, and I aim to have the next chapter up sometime in the next few days; maybe Sunday? _


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